City Girl

Hot Chocolate

Chapter 2 - Hot Chocolate

I found myself overwhelmed with emotions I wished to escape. Sleep eluded me, as memories of Trent replayed in an endless loop in my mind. I longed for relief from these feelings and the solitude that accompanied them.

Staring up at the ceiling, I realized it was likely the dead of night. At least I wasn't at Grace's yet; that would have brought a whole new wave of feelings I was desperate to suppress.

I propped myself up in bed, taking in the surroundings of Jax's guest room. A dull ache pulsed in my head, a reminder of the wine I had indulged in earlier.

The soft glow of the streetlights filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room. It was a cozy space, decorated with art that Jax had created—a mix of vibrant paintings and intriguing sculptures that filled the walls with life. Yet, despite the beauty surrounding me, I felt a hollowness in my chest.

I threw back the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cool wood floor sending a shiver up my spine. The memories of Trent played on a loop in my mind, each recollection serving as a reminder of what I had lost. The laughter we shared, the plans we had made, and the way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the world. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the memories to fade, but they only grew stronger.

"Why did he have to leave?" I whispered into the silence of the room, my voice barely above a breath.

I stood up and padded softly to the window, pulling back the curtain slightly to peer out at the city below. The streets were illuminated, bustling with nightlife, yet I felt like I was trapped in a separate world—one where my heartache held me captive. I wanted to be part of that vibrancy, to feel excitement instead of despair.

Taking a deep breath, I turned away from the window and made my way to the door. I needed to clear my head. I needed to talk to someone, to reach out for comfort. With tentative steps, I made my way to the living room, hoping Jax was still awake.

As I crept down the hallway, I could hear faint music playing, something soft and calming. It was a welcome sound, and I found myself drawn toward it. I pushed open the door to the living room, and there was Jax, sprawled out on the couch, a sketchbook resting on his lap. He was fast asleep.

The sight of him brought a small smile to my lips, despite the turmoil in my heart. Jax looked peaceful, his purple hair tousled and his face relaxed, illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby lamp. I hesitated for a moment, I didn't want to wake him but I wanted to see what he was drawing.

I tiptoed closer, curiosity getting the better of me. The sketchbook was slightly open, and I could see the delicate lines of a figure emerging from the page. It was a woman, beautifully rendered in soft strokes, her legs spread a part with detail in her groin. I couldnt stop looking, it was so erotic, the way she held her breasts and looked up.

I felt my cheeks flush as I stared at the drawing, a mix of admiration and embarrassment swirling within me. Jax had captured so much emotion in this piece, and the intimacy of it was both striking and unexpected. The woman in the sketch exuded confidence, her pose a celebration of femininity and power. I couldn't help but wonder if he had drawn it from a live model or perhaps from his imagination.

I gently lifted the book from his lap and set it on the nearby table. When I turned back to him, I saw that his hand was tucked into his pants.

I felt a rush of embarrassment wash over me, heat flooding my cheeks as I realized what I had accidentally stumbled upon. My heart raced, I didn't look away though. My mind flooded with the moment we had on this very couch, the way he held me, the way I moved on him.